


Christmas Special: Paths We're Shown (With You I'm At Home)

by SecretEnigma



Series: Blood of My Blood verse [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: All the Dads, And An Adorable Child, Because of Reasons, Brother Feels, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Cor Gets A Kickass Wife, Dad!Cor, Dad!Noctis, Dionysus Is Adorable, F/M, Family Fluff, Fem!Titus Drautos - Freeform, Forgive Any Grammar/Spelling Errors I Tried, Gen, Good Parent Regis Lucis Caelum, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This Purely For Fluff, Just One With Parent-Child Feels, Light Angst, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE, Mentioned Kingsglaive, Mentioned Polar Express, Noctis Gets To Be Happy, Not A Christmas Song Tho Funny Enough, Song Lyrics, Spoilers For This Verse, Tags Contain Spoilers, Time Travel Fix-It, as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28317351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretEnigma/pseuds/SecretEnigma
Summary: A look forward at Dionysus's fifth Christmas morning through the eyes of his father. A day spent purely with family and friends, and the joys thereof.
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia & Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Iris Amicitia & Original Male Character(s), Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Noctis Lucis Caelum & Original Male Character(s), Noctis Lucis Caelum & Regis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Titus Drautos | Glauca/Cor Leonis
Series: Blood of My Blood verse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882282
Comments: 25
Kudos: 168





	Christmas Special: Paths We're Shown (With You I'm At Home)

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas Fic, Christmas Fic, CHRISTMAS FIC.
> 
> I speed wrote this in three days and edited on Christmas Eve please forgive whatever errors remain in the manuscript XD. I was going to do a Christmas fic for Nox verse, but that one got stuck (again) so instead I wrote this, because I really wanted to do a Christmas Fic in time for CHRISTMAS rather than, say, July (which has happened before). Also I figured after the last one shot in this AU, everyone could use some fluff with only mild angst.
> 
> I do consider this fic canon, but there might be discrepancies in the details later since I'm time-skipping right over several years worth of stuff that I do want to cover in other one shots and need to actually plot out. Including the Titus Drautos one shot so SPOILER WARNING for that if you want to be completely surprised on that front.
> 
> As is personal tradition, I will be leaving Christmas bible verses in the end notes because they make me happy and I hope to make others happy with them too. :D
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a Wonderful New Year everyone!

“Da!”

The shout jolted him out of sleep mere moments before something heavy and child-shaped slammed down onto his torso with a gleeful shriek. Noctis coughed awake, magic wrapping out instinctively around the child-shaped attacker in _surprise-recognition-why_ , keeping him from lashing out at his own child for startling him out of his sleep like that. Noctis squinted down at Dionysus in a mix of amusement and annoyance, “Dyn. What have I said about leaping on me in my sleep?”

Dionysus giggled from his position sprawled on Noctis’s torso like a thrown stuffed toy, “T’ not t’.”

Noctis raised an eyebrow, well aware of his Heart snickering in the other room, “And so you did it just now, because?”

Dionysus beamed at him, eyes alight and magic _dancing_ with an easy joy that threatened to take Noctis’s breath away, “It’s morning! It’s **morning** , Da! An’- an’ last night- I got t’ **see** Santa!” Noctis started to say one thing, stopped and let his magic sink a little deeper into his son’s.

There were **definitely** traces of Messenger magic still passively tangled up with his, and when he looked closer at his son’s pajamas … was that a hot coco stain? Ignis never let Dionysus drink hot coco while in his pajamas. Noctis sat up straight, his good humor disappearing, “Where did you go last night?”

“On th’ Polar ‘spress! It was fun an’ we got t’ see Santa an’ elves an’ we met a frien’ an’ she got the first gift of Christmas an’ then she gave half t’ me an’ Cer because it was a friendship necklace, see?” Dionysus fished out a brand new necklace made of what looked like actual silver and Noctis tried to remember that there were good reasons for not summoning all six Astrals to yell at them for answers on Christmas morning. Probably something to do with not causing a mass panic in the streets below and other such concerns. He was having trouble remembering those reasons right now.

“…Da? Are you mad?” Dionysus was watching him with a drooping expression and Noctis inhaled slowly to calm his nerves. The traces of fading Messenger magic on his son were all but singing of love and protection and happiness —for children specifically— and … he thought he could remember hearing the words “Polar Express” before, somewhere in the memories of the Lucii. But he didn’t want to touch those, especially not today, so he’d deal with that … later.

Noctis exhaled, inhaled again, “No. No I’m not mad, just … a little upset that I didn’t know you had left on a train ride. In the middle of the night. Past your bedtime.” Dionysus hunched his shoulders and looked sheepish, but he was still five, and still certain that he’d done the right thing because it had apparently been fun. Noctis gently ran his fingers through his son’s hair, “Did you have … fun? Was it **safe**?”

Dionysus nodded enthusiastically, “Ya! We went down a **big** hill really, really fast, an’ I wanted t’ see better, but Sol wouldn’t let me open the window. Cause I’m little.” He made a face at that last bit and Noctis mentally thanked whatever child had been with his son and Certus and had common sense —and apparently enough stubbornness to keep the four year old Certus in line—.

Noctis shifted so that he was sitting on the side of the bed, holding his son in his lap as he did, “Well. Normally I would be punishing you for running off on strange train rides, but just this once- I will let it slide. Because it’s Christmas and you came home safe. Next time,” he gave his son a stern look backed by his magic, “there will be consequences, and you will **not** like them.”

Dionysus hunched his shoulders, “Yes, Da.” He fidgeted a moment, then held up the necklace again as Noctis stood up and propped Dionysus on his hip, “But … we made a frien’?”

Noctis studied the necklace again to keep from going and yelling at the Astrals and their Messengers —of course Santa was some kind of Messenger, of course there was some kind of magic **train** that went to the North Pole that his son had **gone on without permission** —. It was a nice necklace, fine silver and coated with a faint enchantment that felt like _connection-friendship-safety_. It looked like one of those necklaces with a heart symbol that could be split between multiple necklaces, though he hadn’t known those could go three ways instead of two, “It’s … nice, Dyn. Very nice.”

Dionysus beamed, “Her name is Sol, an’ she lives far away. In… in, eh…” he ducked his head shyly, “I forgot. But it’s **far**.”

Dionysus’s perception of “far” could mean anywhere from Hammerhead to Altissia or Tenebrae, but that didn’t matter right now, “Well, I’m sure we can find her again to say hello sometime.” Noctis stood up and gently set Dionysus down, “Now go say Merry Christmas to Ignis, alright?”

Dionysus padded off to go say hello to Ignis, who had just entered the suite and was saying hello to Prompto. As soon as his son was out of the room, Noctis shut the door and snarled with a low pulse of magic, “ **Gentiana**.”

The Messenger form of Shiva appeared in front of him without her usual dramatic pause and immediately held up her hands in placation, “The Beloved’s son was in no danger. This one personally watched over his journey from the shadows, and the Polar Express and her Conductor have ever been loyal and kind to the children of men.”

Noctis swallowed back a shout, because if he ruined the first **proper** Christmas that Dionysus had ever had, he would never forgive himself, and hissed, “And **what** is the Polar Express and how did my son just go on some magic nighttime ride to, presumably, the **North Pole** to see Santa Claus? **In the middle of the night**?”

Gentiana almost looked amused, it didn’t help his plummeting mood, “The Polar Express was a creation of joy and safety in the days of Solheim’s youth, blessed by the Infernian and the Glacian with protections and a will of her own. Those aboard her that are not children are Messengers not numbered among the Cosmogony, and their duty is solely toward the upkeep and happiness of the Polar Express and all her passengers. There was once a time when she would cross the world once a year, on the night before this day, to give certain children the adventure of a lifetime.” Gentiana’s expression sobered, “It has been long since it was safe for her to travel this star. Before the darkness of the Scourge had grown too strong and gained ownership of the night.”

Noctis pieced that out in his mind into something resembling sense, then pinched the bridge of his nose, “Okay. Okay, so now that the Scourge is gone she can resume her journeys, but **why my son**?”

“He set foot upon the Polar Express once, a lifetime ago. She and the Conductor desired to welcome him home by offering him a place on her first journey since the destruction of the Scourge.”

Memory sparked, faded and dulled and not his, but clear enough to make out the impressions of an old, grumbling steam engine settling in the snow. Of a head of red hair boarding and reluctantly leaving the owner of the memory behind. Somnus then.

…Ardyn, who had lived two thousand years ago, back when humanity was still working with Chocobo and wagon transport, had gotten on a magical **steam train**?

Noctis shook his head to clear it, “…This. Needs to never happen again. Understood? Not with my son.”

Gentiana tipped her head in acknowledgement, “No child has boarded more than once in a lifetime.”

“So no more midnight kidnappings?”

“His boarding was entirely voluntary, Beloved Merciful.”

Noctis glared at her, “He’s **five**. He has remarkable impulse control and maturity for his age but he is still **five**. That is not a proper age to be making potentially dangerous decisions.” He shook his head, “Alright, fine. My son was kidnapped by Santa Claus and a magical living steam train as a welcome home Christmas present. It’s never happening again. He’s fine, and that’s the only reason I will let this go.”

The Messenger sketched a bow, “The Merciful demonstrates his title once again.”

Oh, now she was definitely laughing at him. Silently. He growled without heat and flapped his hand, “Shoo. Before I decide to get mad after all.”

Gentiana obligingly vanished and Noctis finally set about getting dressed. Prompto popped in to check on him as he was pulling on a shirt, his face a silent question, no doubt drawn by Noctis’s delay and earlier displeased emotions. Noctis gave him a smile to reassure him that everything was alright, then stepped out into the suite’s living room to join his Retinue and son. Dionysus appeared to be regaling Ignis and Gladiolus with a retelling of the adventures of the previous night. It was clear the pair thought it was all a creative dream. Prompto gave Noctis a long look of question again, Noctis returned it with a look of long-suffering. Prompto’s expression was almost comical as he leaned over and whispered, “You’re kidding.”

Noctis shook his head and whispered back, “Santa is apparently real, and so are living, pre-Solheim era trains that like to take kids to visit him on Christmas Eve.”

“And you aren’t off to murder the Astrals because…?”

“Gentiana was there the entire time making sure he was safe, and also Dyn will be upset if I skip out on presents to go murdering Astrals.”

Prompto made a vague noise that was agreement and bafflement combined, then shook his head and joined the rest of the group by the couches and the lovely, fire-retardant fake Christmas tree —Dyn was starting to unlock his magic, and he had a propensity for fire, Noctis was taking no chances—. Ignis had ducked back over to the kitchenette to check on the progress of the army-sized breakfast he had insisted on making himself. Normally there was a big Christmas breakfast prepared by the servants, but Noctis had asked for a quiet, private celebration this year, and Regis had indulged him, so Ignis had taken it upon himself to make the food for the day. It was going to be Dionysus’s first proper Christmas after all, and it deserved to be special.

The first year Noctis had been in the Citadel, the celebration had been skipped almost entirely. Noctis had still been too skittish to want things like breakable decorations nearby if he had a panic attack. The second year everyone had been far too busy dealing with the aftermath of his eighteenth birthday and the subsequent destruction of the Starscourge and most of Niflheim’s forces. The **third** had been overrun with the political posturing and the first major reconstruction efforts and general haze of disbelief that came in the aftermath of his eighteenth birthday’s aftermath, and while they’d had a Christmas celebration and presents, everyone had been too exhausted from the politics to really get excited for the holiday, and Dionysus had picked up on the subdued, numbed atmosphere.

This was Dionysus’s fourth Christmas in the Citadel, and now that things were settling down, Noctis wanted to make it a good one for his son —apparently so did the Astrals and their Messengers, but he was ignoring that for now—. His Sword wasn’t here, but that was alright too. He’d asked to spend it with his Clan in Galahd, and Noctis hadn’t even thought of denying him. There would be other holidays they could spend together as a full Retinue. Other Christmas’s they would get to spend together. This one was special to more than just Noctis, and he would hardly begrudge his Sword that joy.

Dionysus beamed at him as Noctis settled down to listen to the garbled, disjointed story of his nighttime escapade, and as Ignis started putting breakfast on plates, Noctis looked up to welcome his father and his enterouge. “Dad, you’ve got perfect timing.”

Dionysus slid off Gladiolus’s lap and ran to his grandpa with a squeal of delight. Regis beamed as he gently picked up his grandson and propped him on a hip, “Good morning and Merry Christmas, Noctis, Dyn, everyone. Did you get a good night sleep, Dyn?”

Dionysus giggled and flung his arms around Regis’s neck, and Noctis ducked his head to hide the way the sight made his chest ache —his father alive and whole and so much **better** than he had been in the last timeline, little Dyn happy and healthy and **loved** —. Dionysus leaned close to Regis’s ear and stage whispered, “I went t’ the North Pole an’ saw Santa!”

Regis grinned, oblivious to the truth of the statement, “Did you now? That must have been quite exciting.”

Dyn nodded, babbling and waving his arms, and Noctis looked up as Tiziana skulked over with her own child on her hip and a slightly violent look in her eyes, “I did **not** get my son a friendship necklace. Neither did Cor. He was wearing one this morning.”

Noctis gently patted a quiet Certus’s hair as he murmured back, “Yes, the train ride really happened, no I didn’t know until just now, yes they were safe, they had at least one Messenger keeping watch, probably two. Technically the train was a Messenger too so that might make it closer to three.”

Tiziana gave him a blank, hard look that would have made him snarl a year and a half or more ago, but that now he knew was just her way of hiding her swearing. He gave her a tired nod, “Yeah. My thoughts exactly.”

“And this … Sol?”

Noctis shrugged, “Not a clue. Apparently they made a friend on the train.” He looked down at Certus, “Is that right, kitten? You made a friend last night?”

Certus blinked up at him with all the solemnity of a four year old who had both Leonis and Drautos genes, made a vague little noise of agreement, then went back to contentedly chewing on the little, specially designed necklace his parents had gotten him to chew on so he’d stop chewing right through the collars of his shirts —or the shirts of whatever adult was holding him—. Noctis took that as a victory, since Certus was by far the quietest child he’d ever met who wasn’t outright mute, and refocused on Tiziana, “Maybe don’t tell Cor until after the celebration.”

The Captain of the Kingsglaive snort, “Fine. But I’ll tell him you said that.” Noctis winced, but Cor being upset with him later was better than Cor getting angry and ruining Christmas **now** over something that had already happened and he couldn’t do anything about.

Ignis called them all over for food, and soon Noctis’s kitchenette and living room was settled with people eating Ignis’s cooking. There were more people than Noctis had expected, though perhaps he should have. Most of his Retinue was there, as was his father, Clarus, Cor, Tiziana, Juno, Iris, and little Certus. Cid hadn’t been able to come, he was spending Christmas with Cindy who had caught a cold right before Christmas and couldn’t come despite being invited. Weskham was in Altissia, though he had sent presents for little Dionysus and Certus. Even so, Noctis’s suite was full of people he cared about, and they were all laughing and chatting, and … he was happy. Despite the scare of the morning, he was happy. The tree was weighed down with decorations, and there was a stack of brightly wrapped presents under the tree, and most importantly, his family was here and smiling. Only his Sword was missing, but that was so he could celebrate Christmas in his previously lost homeland, and Noctis could hardly begrudge him that.

Dionysus was all but vibrating by the time they finished breakfast and all settled down on the couches and chairs to open presents. His last three hadn’t been nearly this lighthearted and **big** —even though by royal standards it was still very small—, and they’d had time to sit down and watch movies about it this year, so he was far more excited this year than the previous ones. Iris piggy backed him gleefully to the tree, then let him down so he could pick a present to bring to its owner. Dionysus seemed to almost have more fun hunting down a present, having Iris read out the name, and ferrying it to whoever it belonged to than opening his own. He eagerly watched other people opening their presents before tearing open his own and squealing over the contents. Dionysus coaxed Certus down from his perch on Cor’s lap to help him, and there was nothing more adorable than seeing Dionysus happily babbling away about presents while Certus crawled under the tree and then crawled out with a present and a look of utter concentration on his face, like it was a mission rather than just a little game.

Noctis took time opening his own presents, mostly content to watch his son all but rolling in the leftover wrapping paper, alternating between cuddling his new stuffed chocobo from Prompto —one of many plushes he would get, Noctis suspected, Dyn loved his growing nest of soft toys— and playing with some of the other toys he’d gotten that were geared toward more active play. Iris was stretched out on the floor with Dionysus and Certus, giggling over their antics and making sure Certus didn’t try chewing on the wrapping paper or something inadvisable like that. She had a new bow in her hair, brightly colored and festive compared to the traditional darker clothing of the Amicitia family, and her expression when she opened her gift from Noctis and found a pair of new boxing gloves was worth the look of long-suffering that Clarus gave him for encouraging her preference of punching things over stabbing them.

Certus had already picked out his favorite toy, a stuffed coeurl with lovely rubbery whiskers clearly designed to withstand being thrown or squeezed or chewed on, and he dragged it with him everywhere even as he slowly helped Dionysus fish more presents out from under the tree. The floor was a mess of wrapping paper, bows, and presents, and Ignis’s sigh of exasperation when Dionysus figured out he could crumple the paper into balls and throw them at Iris was fond —Juno, Clarus’s wife, wisely broke up the wrapping paper fight before it could really get started—. Prompto was taking a hundred or more pictures of the entire event with the new camera Noctis had gotten him, Regis was sighing tiredly at Cor and Tiziana, who had gotten each other some form of lethal weaponry and were now having to hide them from the children before curiosity got the better of them, and Juno and Ignis were swapping cooking tips as Ignis flipped through a recipe book of Niflheimian and ancient recipes that Noctis had written down from memory. Gladiolus was playfully pretending to try to “catch” Dionysus and Certus whenever they went by, reaching out with tickling fingers that made Dionysus squeal and Certus grin and giggle softly as he scampered out of the way.

It was loud and brightly colored and more than a bit chaotic and Noctis had to fight to breathe past the warmth in his chest as he watched it all unfold.

This … this was more than he’d thought possible for a long time. The roadtrip, waking up in the past, those three years on the run and the three years of painful recovery and world-changing events that followed —Astrals had it already been three years since Cor found them in that Outpost— … this kind of happiness had seemed like a wish. A dream. But now he was here. It was happening, and Dionysus was **laughing** , bright eyed and his magic all but singing with it and Noctis had to abruptly excuse himself to grab a drink of water so no one would see him rub away the tears that escaped. Noctis leaned on the sink in the kitchenette, pretending to fill up a glass of water as he squeezed his eyes shut on the tears. Was it possible to be **too** happy? He couldn’t remember. Something to ask his therapist next appointment maybe.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, glanced up and found Ignis watching him with concerned eyes, “I’m okay,” he breathed, “I just … never really expected to have this, I guess. Back … back then. It kinda hit me all at once.”

Ignis’s expression softened and his hand slid up to rest at the base of Noctis’s neck, grounding and sympathetic, “It’s perfectly alright, Noct. You … you have been through a lot.” He glanced back at the living area, the happy laughter coming from it, “You have more than earned this, you know.”

Noctis leaned into the touch and breathed slowly, trying to force back his tears before anyone other than Ignis —and Prompto, who was glancing at them from the couch— noticed, “…Thanks, Ignis.”

They lingered there for a little while, listening to the chatter behind them and letting Noctis slowly rebuild his composure until Dionysus gave a high pitched noise of pure joy and started shouting, “Da! Da, look!”

Noctis exhaled, wiped away the last of his tears and turned back to the living area with a smile, “Yeah, Dyn, I’m coming. What have you … got.” He stared at the item in Dionysus’s hands, a part of a playset he’d just opened, and felt vaguely like laughing hysterically.

Dionysus’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he held up the **gaudiest** pirate hat Noctis had ever seen. It was horrifying. A vibrant wine purple-red thing that was **just** this shade of clashing with Dionysus’s own hair and a plume that was probably supposed to be a fake chocobo feather, but was two shades too bright to be a real yellow. And also far too long and **puffy** to be anything but an extravagant fake. It looked like it might secretly be a living creature waiting to pounce off the brim and kill someone. Noctis could only watch in a vague sort of despair as his son put the hat on his little head and beamed at Noctis from beneath it, “Gladdy made me a pirate!”

Noctis spared a long moment to glare at Gladiolus, who just grinned back and stretched out his legs in a pose of languid satisfaction while Dionysus stroked the plume on his new hat and Certus slunk over to try to steal the toy cutlass, “I can see that, Dyn. Isn’t the hat … uncomfortable? Maybe you should wear it another time.”

Dionysus just shook his head, huge grin still on his face, “Nah, it’s fun! I’m a pirate, arr!”

Noctis could already tell that the gaudy hat wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon. He carefully shoved away the memory of **another** hat, equally tacky, if not as gaudy, worn by a red haired Lucis Caelum from a different lifetime, and forced a smile onto his face, “Alright then, **Captain** Dionysus, is that the last of the presents, or can you find us another one?”

Dionysus made another noise that was probably supposed to sound “piratey” and dived under the tree, nearly tangling his hat’s feather plume on the lowest branches while Noctis hissed softly at Gladiolus, “Really, Gladio?”

Gladiolus raised an eyebrow, “What’s the problem? He’s been into that pirate show lately, I thought he’d like it.”

Noctis sighed, it wasn’t like he could say that he had … associations with redhead Lucis Caelums in tacky hats. Prompto snickered sympathetically at him as Dionysus dragged another present from beneath the tree and trotted it over to Regis, who thanked his grandson gently while watching Noctis and Gladiolus in open amusement. Noctis tugged at his hair in agitation, then looked away with a mutter of, “Did it have to be so tacky?”

“Hey it was either that one or a neon blue one with a pink feather. Pick your poison.” Noctis gave his Shield a look to convey what he thought of that —there was no way Gladiolus had only **two** options, not when that entire costume set looked suspiciously like it had been custom made with only the sword purchased in a store—. Gladiolus just grinned, and Noctis resigned himself to Dionysus wearing the gaudy little pirate hat for at least the rest of the day, if not the rest of the week or longer.

Dionysus emerged with the last presents, a new set of cufflinks for Clarus and a building set for Dionysus that he would likely share with Certus —clearly the giver had thought of that as well, since all the parts were large enough to not be a swallowing hazard around the biting-prone child—. Ignis started recruiting help for cleaning up the wrapping paper as Dionysus, Certus, and Iris all rolled around on the floor, playing with the various toys that had been given. Noctis smiled fondly at the sight. Iris had turned out to be a wonderful Shield for Dionysus, far more than Noctis had ever dared hope. The fifteen year old had a natural talent for being a big sister and she got along incredibly well with Dionysus and Certus despite being years older than her prince.

The day went by in a slow, leisurely way that royalty rarely got to have. Prompto recorded entire swathes of it, mostly of Dionysus, Iris, and Certus playing, but also pictures of Regis grinning at the camera with a slight eggnog mustache while Clarus rolled his eyes in the back. Of Tiziana and Juno lurking in a corner, talking about different ways to hide weaponry in a formal dress —why anyone mistook Juno for a mild-mannered housewife was a mystery to Noctis—. Cor was leaning against Gladiolus’s chair, the pair discussing some sort of historical fiction series that apparently was a bizarre mix of accurate and outlandishly incorrect in its fight scenes, and Ignis was watching everyone with a fond expression as he puttered in the kitchenette cleaning up the empty mugs of hot coco. Prompto eventually left the group to join Noctis in his little corner where he was watching everyone talk —watching everyone smile and laugh and be **happy** —. Gentle fingers touched his elbow, and Noctis didn’t realize he was crying again until Prompto offered him one of the handkerchiefs Ignis kept in armiger.

Noctis took it and dried the stray tears on his cheeks, “Thanks.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat, “I promise I’m not upset, I’m just…” He looked at the children playing on the floor again. The lights of the Christmas tree and the glimmer of the ornaments, the feel of his father’s magic —healthy and whole and peaceful, not nearly as strained or pained as it had been even two years ago— reaching out to passively tangle with Noctis’s own calm ocean and Dionysus’s bubbling stream. He opened his mouth, closed it slowly, unable to fully put it into words-.

Prompto leaned against his shoulder, warm and reassuring, “It’s hard not to cry sometimes, when you suddenly realize that all you ever wanted is right here.”

Noctis exhaled slowly and tilted his head to rest it against his Heart’s, “Yeah. I mean, I’m sure I could think of more things to want, but-.” He lowered his voice even further, so that it was the barest of sounds that no one else could possibly hear over the other conversations or the laughter of the kids, “This. This is what I came back for.” This was what he had wanted for Ardyn. Not erasure, but peace, happiness, joy. That he had gotten it not only for the man he set out to save but also for himself, for his brothers, for his father, for a family that was now even larger than it had been in the first timeline-. It was… “It hurts,” Noctis breathed, “but in a good way, you know?”

Prompto laughed, short and nostalgic, “Believe me, Noct. I get it. Every year that we were … waiting for you, we’d talk about this. We- we’d get together and plan what we would do, how we’d pull off a big celebration even with the rationing orders in place and getting stricter every year. Sometimes it hurt to talk about it and- the talks didn’t always end well, but we kept doing it. Just to hold out hope. Seeing it actually **happening**? It’s kind of a trip.”

Noctis hummed, idly watching that ugly, ridiculous pirate hat and its feather bob along amongst the furniture, giving away his son’s position as he tried to sneak up on Iris with Certus’s help. Today had been a slow, private Christmas, something they wouldn’t be able to do every year. Usually there were banquets and parties that had to be attended, or even a gala, like was traditionally held for the Winter Solstice. But after everything that had happened, they had deserved a day like this. A day to be just with their family. To just be **happy**.

“Da?” Noctis blinked out of his thoughts and saw Dionysus peaking at him from over the arm of the couch. Blue eyes sparkled and his little son grinned at him hopefully, “Song?”

Noctis huffed a quiet laugh that he heard Prompto mirror against his shoulder before stepping out of his corner and reaching for the old, battered guitar in his armiger, “Sure, Dyn. What song do you want?”

Dionysus threw his hands in the air in glee, scrambling up onto the cushions as Noctis sat down, “Dunno! Happy?”

Noctis shook his head with a smile, then glanced at the clock on the wall. Was it that late already? He’d known it was after dinner, they’d had the servants bring some up —to give Ignis a break from cooking— after all, but he hadn’t realized it had been that long. Another glance at the other child in the room caught Certus in the act of yawning before he stubbornly shook his head with a tiny scowl. Noctis hummed, “Alright. I have an idea.” It wasn’t the traditional Lucis Caelum lullaby, that was reserved for when he and Dionysus were alone. This one was something he’d picked up … somewhere. It had the clear edges of something he himself had heard, possibly on journey home, but he wasn’t sure.

Not that it mattered. The melody was easy enough to remember.

“Hush your cries,”

“Close your eyes,”

“Stay with me.”

“Let’s just dream,”

“Quietly,”

“Of what might be.”

Dionysus made a face when he realized it was a lullaby, but Regis sat down and gently pulled the boy into his lap, and the warmth of his grandfather’s magic settling over his shoulders made him stay quiet as Noctis carefully plucked out the guitar cords and watched Cor pick Certus up off the floor with a knowing, gentle expression.

“Calm your fear,”

“I’ll be near.

“To you, I’ll cling.”

“Rest, my friend,”

“Time can mend,”

“Many things.”

Little eyelids started to droop and Noctis knew he’d picked the right song.

“I don’t know the answers,”

“Tomorrow’s still unknown.”

“But I can make this promise,”

“You won’t be alone.”

A glance up, quick and sure to his Retinue and a smile that was mirrored in four faces —five, if he’d been here, Noctis knew his Sword would have smiled too—. Iris lay on her stomach on the floor, feet swaying slowly in time to the music, watching him with something like wonder. He rarely sang around anyone but Dionysus after all. Let alone something so quiet as a lullaby. Prompto slowly sat down on the arm of the couch, elbow nudging Noctis’s shoulder in camaraderie.

The lights of the tree were soft and warm.

“But even when we stumble,”

“And someday when we fall.”

“What I will remember,”

“That I had you through it all.”

Dionysus’s hat was crooked now, smooshed between his cheek and Regis’s chest as music and magic coaxed him slowly down toward sleep after a long, happy day. It made a picture Noctis never thought he’d have, never thought he’d be able to see. Even after traveling in time. Especially after first winding up with a **baby** on his hands and no idea what to do.

“I don’t know, where we should go,”

“Just feeling farther from our goals.”

“I don’t know, what path we will be shown,”

“But I know that when I’m with you,”

“I’m at home.”

Prompto snapped a photo without the flash and Noctis fixed his eyes on the tree for a moment, because he thought if he stared at his son any longer, he wouldn’t be able to finish, and that would wake up Dionysus and the finally settling Certus in Cor’s arms.

“Yes I know that when I’m with you,”

“I’m at home.”

A breath, a blink to hide the shine in his eyes that made all the lights of the tree look like a soft, blurred blanket of color. The last chords faded, and Noctis exhaled slowly. He peaked over and found both children fast asleep. Everyone whispered their good nights and their Merry Christmases as Noctis gently lifted Dionysus out of Regis’s arms. Prompto mouthed a quick “see you tomorrow” before ducking out the door, everyone leaving to go back to their own suites or homes. Noctis stood there watching the lights on the tree for a long time, soaking in the feel of the day, the sensation of Dionysus breathing peacefully in his arms.

Then he carried his son to bed, gently tucking him in among his little army of stuffed toys and setting the beloved, slightly squashed pirate hat on the nightstand where it wouldn’t get further damaged. He gently kissed his son’s forehead, letting his own magic sink into the gesture and tangle with Dyn’s in a deep whisper of _love-rest-safe_. Dionysus hummed sleepily in response, and Noctis couldn’t help running his fingers through red-purple hair one last time for the night. A blink, a whisper that was more a grateful prayer than a song.

“Yes I know that when I’m with you…”

“I’m at home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Isaiah 9:6 - "For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; and the government will rest on His shoulders, and His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace."
> 
> Luke 2:8-14 - In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shown around them; and they were terribly frightened. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people. For today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying:
> 
> "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased."
> 
> (All verses were taken from the NASB: New American Standard Bible.)


End file.
